Somebody Take Me Drunk...

We rented all our ski equipment up there, at the ski shop, took lessons for the first morning on the beginner slopes and then we were set loose to try our hand at snow skiing.

We rode up the chair lifts together and tried coming down together. That was hard, because it is hard to go the same speed when you really can't control yourself that well.

Victoria took a nasty fall late in the first day and wrenched her knee pretty bad. Fortunately, I was behind her and stopped uphill above her. She was writhing on the ground holding her knee. I unhooked my skis and knelt beside her, looking to see if I could do something. Her pain was intense; she wasn't dealing with me at the moment.

The ski patrols had seen her fall and were there inside ten minutes. They loaded her on a sled and took her down to the clinic at the bottom of the hill.

The Nurse Practitioner at the clinic said it could be broken but more likely was a nasty sprain. He wrapped it and gave her crutches, ordering her to keep off her leg and to see a physician as soon as we got back to Denver.

We went back to our room and were talking, "I don't know any good orthopedic doctors, do you, Scott?" she asked.

"I use University Colorado Hospital for everything, but I don't know if they have orthopedics. I can call my friend and he can point me to an orthopedist, if that is ok with you?" I offered.

"That would be great," she replied.

Unfortunately, I was unable to contact my friend at UCH, because it was late in the day.

"We'll stay here tonight. I'll order in pizza and then on the way down the hill tomorrow, I'll get you in somewhere as we are driving into town." I said.

"Oooh, a man in charge, I like it." Victoria teased, a little high on the codeine pills.

I helped her get ready for bed and ordered Pizza. We had supper and hit the rack. She was pretty dopey from the pain pills anyhow.

The next day we went straight into UCH, where we were directed to Orthopedics and she was treated very well. The doctor assessed her injury and pronounced it to be a badly sprained knee. There was no permanent damage, but it would be weak for some months. She was fitted with under-the-clothes reinforcement for the knee, given more pain meds and released with written orders, 'no work until released by Doctor'.

Her sergeant didn't care much for that, so he made her come in and fly a desk. With the pain pills though, she really wasn't much good to them, but they wanted her there so her benefits and salary would continue unabated.

After two weeks, I got a call from her, "Scott, would you be a dear and stop off at Walgreens and get my refill on Oxycodone? I am running low and need them for this damn knee pain."

"Still lots of pain, Vic? Better get you back to the sawbones and see what he says, ok?"

"Yeah, ok, but I need those pills tonight if you could please."

I took her in the next Friday to UCH Orthopedic department and her doctor examined her. "It's healing nicely; you should be able to take that brace off any time now. Just take it easy and you'll be ok," he said.

"Yeah, but I still have pain, doc., can you renew that script for oxy's?"

"They are highly addictive officer Newland. I wish we could ratchet that down and get you on something less potent. You need to wean yourself off them now, before this becomes an addiction," the doctor warned solemnly.

"Yeah, ok, just fill one more for me and then I'll go to something less addictive. Please?" she begged.

He wrote out a prescription and handed it to her silently. She took it and we left.

When Walgreens filled the prescription, it wasn't for Oxycodone but Tylenol 3. Victoria hit the ceiling when she realized what the doctor had done.

Suddenly we, Victoria Newland and Scott Roberts, were on equal ground.

The best thing about all this is that Victoria is a strong person. The second best thing is that she'd only been on the Oxycodone for a little over two weeks. Though that can be enough, she didn't totally fall under the spell of the addictive drug, but got close enough to smell the foul odor of that beast; addiction.

Helping Victoria assess things in her own life also helped me. While I was taking her inventory, I took my own. I hadn't had a drink in seven weeks and Victoria was off all pain meds except for an occasional Advil.

She started out strong but during the process she became needful and I was the guy who was there to help her. It served to ingratiate myself with her. She started looking at me like I'd been looking at her, with big moon shaped eyes.

We began dating, having dinners, going places and doing things together on her days off. There was no sex, she was wary and wanted to wait until there was real commitment. We did some kissing, some fondling, and some heavy breathing. She stopped me any time I got too adventurous, even though she was hot herself.

Seven weeks became two months, then four months. We spent her days-off together, enjoying one another, discovering places and doing interesting things.

However, a chasm began to grow between us. She was a cop, after all, and I an ordinary citizen. She had a league of brethren that she worked with, trained with and counted on for protection, which she protected as well.

Slowly she began to withdraw from me, especially when it became clear that I wasn't going to return to drinking my life away and that I was doing well and recovering from my drinking problem.

Finally, she ended it. "Scott, we need to go on with our lives. I care for you so much and I know you care for me but we are from different worlds. I have aspirations and you have a different future than me," she gently told me the last night we were together.

I listened silently, knowing that something like this was coming. Her growing detachment from me was obvious and I'd steeled myself against this day.

"You've done so much for me Vic," I said. "I'd probably be dead or in prison or something right now if you hadn't taken me on as a project."

"You were more than a project Scotty, you were special. I always said so, remember?" she asked.

"Yeah, I remember," I replied. "Well, so I guess this is it. I hate goodbyes and I'll do my crying in private, but I love you Victoria and I'll never forget you, never forget that you threw me a lifeline just as I was about to gasp my last." My voice began to crack as I headed for the door.

"Scott, please don't leave hurt. I didn't mean we'd never...see one another..."

I closed the door and was just out of her building as my tears hit.

I made it to my car and sat and cried like a school girl.

Victoria lived in an apartment building off Florida and Evans and I had my penthouse downtown, off the 16th street mall. I drove home, walked into my place feeling hollow and wondered if a drink would hit the spot.

I thought about what I'd learned in the past few months, how my life had turned. I began to realize I had a lot going for me, and I shouldn't spend my time trying to destroy myself any longer, but to make something productive come from my time here on earth. I'd always hold Victoria Newland special in my heart but she didn't see me as a potential mate and there was really nothing I could do about that.

I just had to gird myself up and go on.

I had millions of dollars, with no need to work for the rest of my life, but I couldn't just sit and eat pistachios. I needed an avocation.

On a whim, I registered as a Republican and ran for the Colorado Senate, for a seat being vacated in downtown Denver. It had long been held by the Democrats. I really had no credentials to run. I did have a 4-year college degree, but I was loaded and never really had a job. So, I'd fit in perfectly if I could win the seat!

The Republican Party got behind me and poured funds into my campaign, trying to take control of the Senate away from the Democrats. They called me a fresh face with new ideas and I worked hard at it. We had rallies, I gave speeches and interviews, and I won that damned seat by only fifty-six votes. It was truly an upset victory and the Republicans did take control of the Colorado State Senate by a two-seat majority.

I got my committee assignments and pretty much voted the party line on everything that came up. It took quite a while for me to acclimate to the rigors of public life, of political life and of being a power broker, but I became popular with my colleagues and quite well known around Metropolitan Denver.

I'd had the seat for three and a half years and was up for reelection for another four-year term. I had a lot of money in my campaign coffers and spent a lot of time kissing babies, going to luncheons and rubber chicken suppers. I worked lots of rope lines, shaking hands meeting and greeting my constituents, the voters.

We'd received some death threats; my office staff had intercepted them and notified the Colorado State Patrol, who have responsibility for Capitol security. But, outside the legislature, we are unprotected and so whatever police district we are in has the burden of security, if we notify them that we will be holding an event.

My secretary had notified Denver PD that I'd be doing a Saturday 5k jog and meet 'n greet afterwards in Cheeseman Park, southeast of downtown. The police department said they'd assign an officer to run the 5k race with me and then a contingent of two more officers to hang close as I moved about the crowd. They'd be out of uniform, but be in service and armed as well as have protective clothing on.

There were probably 125 or 150 people in the group. I was shaking hands, one of my staffers was handing out campaign literature and out of the corner of my right eye, I saw a steel glint, then I heard several loud gunshots at close range. I was knocked to the ground, with people on top of me. There were a couple more gunshots and chaos reigned. I saw blood and there was screaming and yelling. I heard orders being yelled, lots of confusion. It didn't seem I was hurt, at least I didn't feel any pain, but I had this warm sticky stuff, "Oh, it's blood!" coming from my chest. It was becoming hard to breathe, I felt like I was drowning.

I woke up in Denver General Hospital. I'd been shot in the lung, two bystanders were killed and a Denver police officer, who had been protecting me, was seriously wounded and still in surgery. I was told the officer had stepped in harm's way to protect me by taking a second bullet meant for me, then landing on me as we both fell to the ground, which also broke two of my ribs.

I'd never even seen the security detail that DPD had said they'd assign me. I did see and talk to the officer who ran the race with me, but it got so hectic right afterwards I never even looked for the other two when I started greeting the crowds. At first I had no idea at all that it was Victoria Newland who had taken a bullet for me and now lay seriously wounded, in surgery at this same hospital, fighting for her life.

The shooter was shot to death by my other security guard; that was the second set of shots I had heard after falling to the ground. The assailant was an ardent Democratic supporter of the guy who I'd beat by fifty-six votes almost four years previously. I guess the Democrats wanted their Senate seat back.

They said I had a .38 caliber slug in my lung when I arrived at their ER. I was losing blood fast and they performed emergency surgery, removing the slug and repairing what damage they could find. They were cautiously optimistic that I'd make a full recovery.

I asked about the officer. Her prognosis wasn't so rosy. She had a bullet-proof vest on, but it is open on the sides, and she was turned to the side when the shooting began. She took a slug on her left side and the bullet grazed an artery near her heart and stopped in her left lung, after shattering a rib as it went by. She took a second round to the palm of her right hand, as she had put it forward using it as a shield against the onslaught of bullets. After she was hit, she went right down on top of me, breaking my ribs.

They got the slug out of her lung, and were trying valiantly to repair the bullet-grazed artery of her heart. The surgeons at Denver General Hospital had called University Hospital for the world famous Heart Surgeon, Harold Metzenbalm, on staff there. Dr. Metzenbalm arrived at DGH as they were just beginning to work on her heart. Victoria 'died' on the table, her wounded heart stopping just after they began operating on it.

The tenacious ER teams, and Dr. Metzenbalm, refused to accept that as the final answer and worked feverishly to restore a heartbeat, a blood pressure, stop the bleeding, restart normal function, mend the broken rib that the bullet shattered and repair the artery that had been nicked, bringing Victoria back to a living, breathing person.

She was in surgery for eleven hours. The team of hard working expert physicians saved the brave police officer's life. Her outlook was now bright. With time, and therapy, she would be ok.

I asked if we could be in the same room, as patients. They had to make sure Victoria was ok with that so, when she could communicate, she nodded her head yes to the question, "Would you like to be in the same room as Senator Roberts?"

They pushed our beds about as close as they could and still get the machines in there. I stuck my hand through the rail and she hers. We held hands.

We had a constant stream of visitors. I had a message from President Romney and Vice President Michelle Bachman, visits from our Democratic Governor, most of the Republican Senators that I served with and even many Democratic ones.

Victoria was visited by literally hundreds of Denver Police and Sheriff Officers. Other departments also sent representatives. It became so much the hospital had to shut it down. Victoria asked if, instead of visiting, they would each give a pint of blood - that would mean so much to her. The hospital received 3,219 pints of blood in the ensuing weeks. It was donated by law enforcement officers and fire fighters from around the state; also from many citizens throughout Metropolitan Denver. The blood bank finally had to refuse more blood, because they were afraid it wouldn't all keep and they were full.

We were in the hospital, together, for two weeks. She was in longer than I but we had many opportunities to talk during quiet evenings or late at night when we were both awake.

"I never meant to drive you away, Scott. I just needed some space. We were so close and I hadn't intended to fall in love. Plus, my career was taking off and I had a lot of demands, training demands, and other departmental things going on," Victoria said.

"I thought it best to make a clean break, Vic. I could tell you'd been more and more detached from me. When you started to talk that night, I already knew that you needed space from me, that you'd decided to move on. To cling to you would have been to drive you away, totally," I told her solemnly.

"You saved my life; several people have told me that. You put yourself in harm's way; you pushed me down and took that bullet, then another one in your hand. Your life is forever changed because of your sacrifice," I murmured.

"Victoria, you've saved me twice now." I said.

"Well, I can't have my guy dying on me now, can I?" she said. "Somebody's got to look out for you. Besides, you saved me from what was becoming a pretty bad drug addiction to Oxycodone. That would have ruined my life, Scott. You hung in there with me and made me see myself. I owed you for that, besides it was my job to protect you last Saturday; that was why I was there."

"Well, if we're keeping score, I am still down one but, let's make a deal...let's quit the rescue business," I offered.

"I'm still a cop, still in that line of work, you know?" she reminded me.

"I imagine you will be getting some time off after you get out, some recuperation time. I want you to come to my place, I'll hire a nurse and we can convalesce together for a few weeks. What do you say?" I asked.

"Sounds good, Scott. I might just take you up on that. I need to sleep. See you in the morning," she said.

I won reelection handily from my penthouse apartment after being released from Denver General Hospital. I'd allowed one of the television stations and one of the daily newspapers into my roomy apartment every week for an extensive interview leading up to the election. Victoria was there for some of them and our story just won the hearts of the people. I could have been President of Colorado, if I'd asked and Victoria could have been Queen. She is so tall and elegantly beautiful with her blonde locks, light eyes and sweet smile. She looks nothing like a hardened cop, though she's tough as a Dodge Pickup Truck.

Together, in the interviews, we told of the beginning of our relationship; how she had found me in my own vomit, how I'd been arrested for various alcohol-related offenses in the past, how she'd taken me under her wing and given me a hand up. It was a comeback story and, instead of being viewed as shameful, it was inspirational.

There was always some smart-ass reporter wanting to know if she was bent on saving the world. Her answer, "No Keith, not save the world, but all the darkness in the world can't hide the light of a single candle."

Mostly, they just looked at her with a thousand yard stare after that.

We were recovering slowly. We underwent extensive rehabilitation and needed lots of time to heal. We each needed to go at our own pace, but heal we did.

My place is so large that I offered Victoria the chance to just move in and take up residence in one of the spare bedrooms if she wanted. It turned out she did want, but we were still platonic. I never could figure out her intentions towards me. If it were up to me, I'd bed her, but it wasn't. She was either going slow, making sure, or not interested at all.

However, this time, our bond strengthened. Our hearts were becoming knit. We ate together, we spent our evenings together and she accompanied me on some State business where a date or spouse's attendance was appropriate.

She was off the streets as a uniformed cop, though she was promoted to detective sergeant. It was less rigorous and she could cut back on her hours if she needed to rest some.

I had a call from Randall Prahall, the Chairman of the Colorado Republican Party. He wanted to come over and visit. I told him, we'd make a dinner party of it and to bring his wife. Actually, there were ten men with him when they came and it wasn't dinner they wanted to talk about.

"Scott, the governor is up for reelection next year and we think he's vulnerable. We want you to put your hat in the ring and run against him. If we can get the Governorship, we'll have all three; the house the senate and the governors office," he announced, to nods of approval.

Victoria sat there wide-eyed, not indicating her preference one way or another.

"I'll need some time to think it over. Nothing like this was on my radar so it's come to me out of the blue. Just let me think about it," I said, thoughtfully.

"We'd like your answer by the first of the month," Randall said, "We have a lot of planning and scheduling to do. I hope you are on board with this, Scott. The Republican Party is stronger now here in Colorado. We want to field a strong candidate for Governor, and we think you are it. If you agree to run, you'll have the full weight of the Colorado and National Republican Party and substantial financial backing behind you."

They all finished their drinks and left. The meeting lasted but 30 minutes. We did not eat dinner.

I had barely begun my second term as a State Senator and was only 35 years old. I'd been out of the hospital for six months after the shooting and was nearly back to normal. I was in good condition before the shooting, which helped my recovery substantially, the doctors had said. Victoria was recovering but more slowly as she had been more severely wounded. However, she would make a full recovery, just in a few months more than me. She was glad to have a place to recuperate where she had peace and was cared for both physically and emotionally.